“Yeah, I changed my mind. I really think I should rest it. Plus, it’s not half as effective as my left.”

“No?” Logan asked as he straddled his legs. “I think I should judge for myself.”

Logan’s fingers flirted with the open zipper of Tate’s jeans before pulling them down his hips, which Tate lifted without hesitation, freeing his beautifully cut cock.

A low sound of approval came from the man seated in front of him, and as Tate pumped his pelvis up, Logan leaned down over him. The scents of arousal and Tate combined and had his own dick aching between his legs. It’d been too long since he’d been able to touch him this way, to even think about it, and as he let his mind relax and enjoy, he was engulfed by the eroticism of rediscovery.

Tate arched his body in an effort to get closer to his mouth, and Logan aimed his eyes up at him and tsked.

“Nothing strenuous, remember. Behave yourself.” Then he slowly ran his tongue along the underside of Tate’s cock.

Tate sucked in a hiss of air and let it out on a groan. “Logan.”

Clearly, his patience was as precarious as his own today. Logan raised his head and caught Tate’s ragged expression. “Hmm, I think I forgot…”

“Forgot?” Tate asked as he swiped his parted lips with his tongue, giving him a really difficult decision to make.

Do I go to his mouth or stay here at his cock?

Then Tate’s erection nudged his cheek and Logan turned his head to lick a wet path up it.

Decision fucking made.

“Ahh, Logan… Forgot what?” Tate panted as he tongued his weeping slit. “God, that feels fucking good.”

Logan sucked the swollen head between his lips and then felt a hand stroke the back of his head. As Tate teased the strands of hair under his fingers, Logan lowered his mouth and took him in deeper.

The groan that escaped Tate was tortured. He sounded like a man who’d been waiting years for someone to touch him, and as Logan grabbed his hips, he felt like it had been years since he’d been able to.

When he drew his lips off him and kissed the tip of his cock, his eyes found Tate’s and he whispered, “I forgot how fucking gorgeous you are when you fall apart for me.”

Tate looked at the seductive man straddling his legs and tried to remember a time when he didn’t love him—and hell if I can. Logan had weaved some kind of spell over him, one he hadn’t believed possible. But as he watched him rise up to his knees and stroke his own cock, Tate knew he’d found his person.

He reached out for him, and when Logan took his hand, Tate pulled him forward so he was kneeling over his hips.

“Kiss me,” he whispered when Logan’s mouth hovered over his. He lowered his head, and as their lips met, Tate closed his eyes, ready to savor the deep slide. When it didn’t happen and that wicked mouth vanished, Tate’s eyes opened to see Logan’s blue ones shining down at him.

“Like that?”

“No.”

“No?” Logan asked, rubbing his leaking hard-on against his chest.

Tate had his head tilted back against the headboard, but he could feel the sticky evidence of Logan’s arousal as he looked up at the hedonistic vision kneeling over him. “No. I want more.”

“Is that right?”

“With you? Always.”

When Logan leaned down, bit his lower lip, and rasped, “Good,” Tate groaned and let him in. The sexy sound that left Logan filled his ears as he cupped his face between his hands and devoured him.

He closed his eyes as Logan’s hips writhed against him, making it impossible to think of anything other than the way he moved when he was inside him. It would be a fucking miracle if he made it through the next week alive to feel that again with the way his heart was thumping in his chest.

He pushed his hips up as Logan snaked a hand down between them, and when a tight fist pumped his dick, he let out a frustrated curse. “Fuck. I want… I…”

“Yes?” Logan urged, his voice barely a whisper and his hot breath shifting the hair by his ear. “What do you want, Tate? Tell me.”

“More,” he rasped even though he knew he couldn’t have it—then an idea took root. One way or another, he was going to have Logan inside him. “I want to taste you.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed on him as if he were trying to get inside his mind, and then he gave him a look that was so fucking sinful that Tate knew he understood.

Silently, Logan backed away and tugged his jeans off of him. It wasn’t until he threw the denim to the side of the bed and crawled back up to straddle him so his cock was inches from his face that Tate knew they were on the exact same page.

As Tate’s eyes ran a hot trail down his body, Logan wrapped a fist around himself and positioned his body so he was nudging against Tate’s chin and lips. Yes, there’s my dirty Tate. I know what you want.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Tate moved his hand down to touch himself, and Logan felt his blood pounding out a hard rhythm between his legs.

Oh yeah, I’m onto you.

“Tate,” he said again, drawing his attention and his eyes back to him. “Open your mouth.”

As he inched closer so his knees were flanking Tate’s sides, Tate parted his lips and flicked his tongue out across the pre-come coating the swollen head of Logan’s cock.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Logan thought, placing a hand on the headboard to brace himself. Then Tate looked up at him, and his expression of longing made Logan think one thing only—I can’t wait to sink my cock between his lips.

He guided himself to that waiting mouth, and as the tip of his erection ghosted over it, Tate tasted him again. His eyes lowered, and then he shocked the hell out of Logan by leaning forward to swallow him inside.

Logan ground his teeth together and flexed his fingers against the sturdy bed frame as he felt one of Tate’s palms stroke up the back of his thigh to cup his ass.

“Oh yeah, Tate. That’s it. Suck me.”

He felt the suction around him increase as Tate’s cheeks hollowed out and he moved his lips back and forth. Logan let go of his shaft and ran his fingers through Tate’s hair so he could hold the back of his head as he slid his lips along his hardened flesh.

The hand on his ass pulled him closer, and as he used Tate’s hot, wet mouth the way he’d asked him to, Logan felt his fingers dig into his ass cheek and then trace their way down to gently squeeze his balls.

Logan’s curse ricocheted around the room, and his head fell back while Tate continued to work him over. His breathing was coming fast, and he was reminded that the man currently obliterating his control was the only person who’d ever made him feel that way.

Tate had the power to make him tremble from passion and from pain—and he trusted him with his very soul.

Looking down, he saw brown eyes full of desire staring back at him. He stroked his fingers over Tate’s jaw, and when that expression morphed to one of love and gratitude, he felt his balls tingle and his body begin to shake.

His mind shut down to anything other than the explosive orgasm that then hit him while he was buried deep inside the delicious mouth surrounding him, and when Tate swallowed every drop and pulled his mouth free, Logan put both hands on the headboard to hold himself up.

Fuck, he thought. He is so it for me.

Tate had demolished any kind of thought he had, but when Logan peered down at the gorgeous face aimed up at him, he was determined to give as good as he’d just received.

He shifted down until he was lying beside Tate, and when he saw a particularly self-satisfied smile cross his lips, he asked, “Pleased with yourself?”

“Yeah, I think I am.”

Logan ran a finger along the prominent erection still being massaged by Tate’s hand. “Want to tell me why?”